


5.22: Painless - Giving Up

by lucylow



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Episode: s05e22 Painless, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:21:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23507542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucylow/pseuds/lucylow
Summary: “So when you’re in the jury room, you ask yourselves: If your parent, your child, your friend, or spouse was suicidal, what would you want? Your loved one to get help, or Amy Solwey telling them it’s okay to give up?”Casey Novak delivered that closing statement just as she’d rehearsed it, but she found herself repeating it to herself in her head and quietly out loud for the rest of the afternoon. She didn’t need to keep it memorized anymore, but for some reason, she also felt she did. Maybe if she repeated it a few more times she could believe it again.Or:Casey Novak has clinical depression, and a case regarding assisted suicide brings her close to the edge. Olivia Benson comforts her. [ No romance - this time;-) ]Warnings for possibly triggering self-harm and suicide discussion.
Relationships: Olivia Benson/Casey Novak
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	5.22: Painless - Giving Up

_ “No one has the right to kill another human being. So why should Amy Solwey be allowed to help Christina Nerrit murder herself? Now, we’ll never know Christina Nerrit’s pain. But what we do know is that many depressed people who attempt suicide are later thankful they lived through it. But Christina Nerrit never got the chance to get treatment, or to be grateful she was alive because Amy Solwey made it her mission to help Christina die. So when you’re in the jury room, you ask yourselves: If your parent, your child, your friend, or spouse was suicidal, what would you want? Your loved one to get help, or Amy Solwey telling them it’s okay to give up?” _

Casey Novak delivered that closing statement just as she’d rehearsed it, but she found herself repeating it to herself in her head and quietly out loud for the rest of the afternoon. She didn’t need to keep it memorized anymore, but for some reason, she also felt she did. Maybe if she repeated it a few more times she could believe it again. Her job gives her a reason to live. She pulls her life’s meaning from it. After every conviction - the justice brought for each victim, the satisfaction of the victory - she is glad she stayed alive long enough to work that case. 

But she also knows that the thing that’s always kept her from the edge is her family. The thought of her brother finding her lifeless body, or her father crying at her funeral was always too much guilt for her to bear. She kept it together for them.

Casey climbed into bed and curled up under the covers.  _ Is it okay to give up? _ The wall looked as blank and bleak as it did an hour ago, but she continued to stare. Her limbs were heavy and the pill bottles on the bathroom sink were so far away. She wanted to sleep. Her brain just kept running. She knew if she didn’t take the meds she would feel even worse in the morning. 

_ Useless _ . That’s what she was. Too damn lazy to even walk across to room to put three miniscule objects in her mouth with a glass of water. Maybe she didn’t fight that case as hard as she could have. Maybe in her heart she knew he was right.  _ Maybe it’s just not worth it _ . 

She hadn’t had an episode this bad in a while. The sertraline helped with the worst of the lows, and the lamotrigine stabilized her mood for the most part. It took long enough. During her last period of sanity and self awareness she moved the box cutters from her nightstand drawer to the kitchen. 

_ “Many depressed people who attempt suicide are later thankful they lived through it.” _

_ If I live through tonight, I’ll live through another soulless, numb-but-somehow-still-painful day only to be in this same position tomorrow, or next week, or next month.  _

_ “I help people who don't want to suffer anymore.” _

_ I don’t want to suffer anymore. There isn’t a cure. I’ll live in the misery for the rest of my miserable life. _

_ “They're in pain, I know what pain is! I live with it every day. You don't! How can you judge me? How can you judge them?” _

_ I know pain. _

She was spiraling out of control. Past experience told her that her every perception was warped - from the distance to the bathroom and the pain she felt yesterday to the twisted comfort of blade on skin and the pain she’d feel tomorrow if she lived.

_ “I don't know. If I had something like Huntington's Disease and all I had to look forward to was a long, horrible death, I can't say I wouldn't think about suicide.” _

_ Olivia. She always listened. Weighed every angle.  _

Before she could think too much about it, Casey pulled out her phone. She scrolled through the contacts, past “1-800-273-8255” - the last resort not even afforded with a name - to “Benson.”

She picked up on the third trill with a voice thick with sleep. “Benson.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Casey stuttered, “I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s not important.”

Olivia paused. Casey could hear the sheets rustle over the phone. “It is 2am. What’s going on?”

Casey was silent. She should hang up. Just wave it off. Olivia’s had a long day and she needs to sleep too. But instead the words escaped her lips, “I’m scared.”

God, she sounded like a child.  _ Oh no. Here come the tears. _ She never should have called. 

“Casey?” More sheets rustled as Oliva sat up. “Casey, text me your address. I’ll be there in 20.”

Necessity and guilt gave Casey the energy to answer the apartment door. She held a pillow tight to her chest. Definitely childish. 

Olivia didn’t even say hello. She just opened her arms up for a hug. Casey awkwardly fumbled the pillow behind Olivia’s back. Even in the dim kitchen light, it was clear that Casey’s eyes were puffy and wet. Olivia kicked off her shoes.

“It’s a nice place,” said Olivia. 

“My brother’s a doctor,” Casey replied, “a pretty overprotective one at that. He wanted to make sure I had a comfortable place. In exchange, he gets the pull-out when he’s in town for work.” She motioned to the couch across from the bed in the little studio. 

Casey sat on the side of the bed, and Olivia joined her. “Is there something in particular bothering you?” She didn’t ask  _ Are you ok? _ or  _ What’s wrong? _ \- Casey was grateful.

She shook her head. “Especially rough night I guess.”

“Do you have depression?”

Casey nodded. “You?”

“Thankfully, no,” she replied. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be.” Casey just buried her face in her pillow. “Do you take medications at night?” 

_ Have you tried antidepressants? You just need to exercise and eat better. Try to smile more - the endorphins will help your brain. _ The condescending statements whirled through her head. As if that would fix everything. But Olivia said it differently. It was a simple question - and a reminder - not a judgment.

Casey took advantage of her momentary energy to waddle into the bathroom for her meds. Her throat spared her a gagging fit for a night. When she returned, Olivia was texting.

“Elliot,” she explained. “I’m telling him to pick me up from here tomorrow morning. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Thank you.” Casey smiled her first smile of the night.

“Do you want to try and sleep again?” Casey nodded. “Should I lay beside you or can I hold you?”

“That would be nice,” Casey whispered. “You give good hugs.”

Olivia laughed. “I know.”

Casey would feel so guilty and infantile about it in the morning, but Olivia would do her best to quell her fears. “It’s okay to just need someone sometimes. I’m here whenever you need me.” Casey Novak wasn’t going to give up.


End file.
